


Girls Like Girls

by pterodactylichexameter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4289406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterodactylichexameter/pseuds/pterodactylichexameter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things just happen for a reason. Aka who needs boys when you have Clarke and Raven's chemistry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girls Like Girls

“Hey,” Raven grunts when Clarke strides into Mecha station. She’s alone for the evening and trying to work through a damn radio system that’s on the fritz and frankly, she’s frustrated as hell and just wants to get it done with without any interruptions.

“Hey, Raven,” she replies, voice even and firm. There’s something on her mind, that’s for sure. Raven can see the hesitation and deliberation battling in her motions as she leans against the edge of the table strewn with the deconstructed radio bits.

There’s a moment of silence between the two girls and Raven isn’t sure what’s going on, standing there with a pair of pliers in one hand and her hair thrown up in a messy ponytail.  Then Clarke clears her throat.

“I know we haven’t exactly been on the best of terms recently.”

Raven pauses, frustration evaporating, replaced with curiosity. She glances up at the girl standing there, hands braced on the desk, blonde hair slightly frizzy in the humidity of the summer and waits for her to continue because she knows there’s something else that’s coming.

“I guess—” Clarke starts, sighs, then continues, “I guess I just wanted to apologize. For everything.” She shakes her head, biting her lips.

Well. That’s unexpected.

When she doesn’t respond, Clarke continues, glancing up and meeting her eyes for half a second before flickering back down again. “Point is. I don’t want to be enemies or hate each other or anything like that. Not at all, I—”

Raven shrugs. “We’re not enemies, Clarke. We never were.”

There’s a table separating them but Raven stands, the radio suddenly gone from her mind. Clarke looks surprised as hell (but really? Had she expected an argument? She’s almost offended) but turns to face Raven when she circles the desk.

“I’m sorry too,” Raven adds, because if they’re doing this, then they’re _doing this_. “I don’t like fighting with you.”  And that’s the truth if there ever was one.

Clarke swallows through a nod, and then she offers a hand. “Friends?”

Raven rolls her eyes and chuckles. Damn Clarke and her manners. She pulls Clarke into a hug, her body soft against hers, breasts pushing against hers even through her jacket and Raven’s shirt.

After a moment of hesitation, Clarke’s arms wrap tight around her slight form and Raven almost chokes back the knot in her throat because she hadn’t even realized what she’d been missing between them until now.

Neither of them move to pull away, and Raven buries her nose in Clarke’s golden hair, breathing in the warm woodsy scent that always clung to her.  The room is suddenly quiet and warm and Raven’s heart pounds in her chest when they withdraw slightly, smiling and glancing at the other.

They’re still only a few inches apart, and Raven’s smile falls, glancing down to Clarke’s pink lips. Clarke swallows, mouth parting, uncertain.

And then they’re pressing towards each other, lips brushing softly at first, the barest touch of skin. And then more firmly, heads tilted, fingertips brushing waists, shoulders, both trying to read the other, trying to grasp what was even happening.

It’s when Clarke’s breath hitches, her fingers digging into her shoulders when Raven knows that she _wants_ this. Wants her.

So she slides her hand into Clarke’s hair, cradling her head, and kisses her like she means it, deep and full, drawing her lips open. Clarke’s hands pull at her waist, drawing them together, fingertips sliding under the edge of her shirt, hot against her bare back.

But apparently Clarke doesn’t like to give up control all that easily because then she’s holding Raven’s head between her hands and the indecent way her tongue suddenly sweeps through her mouth has her toes curling in her boots.

“Just letting you know,” Raven mutters into her mouth, pausing to catch her lip between her teeth. “I don’t half ass anything.” There’s pink on Clarke’s cheeks and her lips are red and _shit_ , she’s fucked.

Clarke’s eyes flutter open to meet hers, her pupils blown wide and dark, blue nearly gone. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

A curse tumbles out of Raven’s lips and then she’s pulling her mouth to hers, backing Clarke up until she feels her hit the table.

“Your shit’s gonna get messed up,” Clarke mumbles when Raven shoves it all aside, desperate and hungry all at once to just fucking _do something_.

“I don’t fucking care,” Raven mutters back and the force of her mouth pressing against hers has their teeth clacking together, all hot breath and fierce movements. It feels like they’re both trying to one up each other but Raven doesn’t even care if it’s a competition because its _hot as hell_.

Even with the shit diet they have, Clarke’s all soft curves and slight muscle, the dip of her bare waist curving under her fingertips as she moves hungrily up her body.

“The door’s open,” Clarke murmurs while her mouth moves along the curve of Raven’s jaw, nipping just under her ear.

Her pale hands pull Raven’s tank top up, sliding over the curve of her breast through her thin bra. The shirt goes somewhere on the floor, along with Clarke’s jacket, easily forgotten when there’s other things to be worried about, like how the hell Clarke’s got such freaking fantastic boobs.

“I don’t care if you don’t,” Raven says as her fingertips brush the underside of her bra, and then she’s reaching around to deftly unhook the offending garment. “They’re gonna hear you even if the door’s closed so why even bother.”

Clarke lets out a little breath at that, pushing a knee between hers and grinding down shamelessly on her thigh. “ _Fuck_ , Raven.”

She smirks against Clarke’s throat and yeah, it’s just a line, but it’s fucking true. They’re a fumbling mess of hands while they both try to pull Clarke’s shirt over her head once, and then Raven’s tugging her bra off too, immediately testing the heavy weight of one breast in her palm (but no seriously, how the _fuck_ did she get such a nice rack).

A whimper slips out of Clarke’s mouth when Raven’s thumb catches over her nipple and then Clarke’s pulling at the waistband of her pants, popping the button, warm hands pushing them down her hips.

“Damn brace,” Raven curses when she realizes she can’t stand _and_ get her pants off _and_ kiss Clarke all at the same time.

“It’s okay.” Clarke pushes her jeans down far enough down her hips and then her hand is in her underwear and _fuck_.

Raven grasps her hip to steady herself when Clarke’s fingers slip right past her coarse curls and into her slick folds.

And then, to top it all off, Clarke bends to kiss the side of her neck and murmur with her breath hot in her ear, “I won’t be the only one screaming by the time we’re done.”

It’s too much to handle all at once, Clarke’s fingers are pressing over her clit without any sense of preamble, her mouth sucking along her collar bone, all the while they’re both half naked with the door fucking wide open into the hallway.

“Inside,” Raven murmurs, choking on her own words, fingers tight around Clarke’s hips. “I need you—”

She doesn’t even have to finish the sentence because Clarke’s bending her wrist, changing the angle and pressing a finger into her.

“Fuck, you’re as wet as I am,” she mumbles and Raven groans when she presses a second finger into her.

She needs to know, feel if it’s true. So she fumbles with Clarke’s jeans, shoving them along with her underwear, over her smooth hips.  They’re still half leaning against the table, and Raven wants a bed, but there’s no way they’re making it all the way down the hall, so she tests Clarke’s center with a slow swipe of her fingers through her curls.

It’s hard to think with Clarke’s fingers in her, making wet noises as she rubs that spot on her front walls, sending throbs of hot pleasure through her nerves.  But it’s a challenge also, and she doesn’t waste any time, sliding two fingers into her slick heat.

She’s absolutely dripping, letting out a long groan when Raven’s thumb finds her clit.

“Raven,” she gasps out, the motion of her hand faltering for a second when her fingers find the right spot inside her.

They’re racing to the finish line, it feels like, a soundtrack of sighs and murmurs and growled curses that slip out with the hard press of fingers and lips.

“You’re so tight, Clarke,” she mumbles into her shoulder, biting down on the smooth shoulder as she grinds down on the hand between her thighs.

Clarke lets out a breathless groan and quirks her fingers inside her. “Mmm, you like that, don’t you? How tight I am?”

Raven doesn’t say anything, just circles her clit in sudden, unrelenting merciless  circles and with the sudden intake of quick breaths, she knows she’s won.

“You’d better let the whole damn camp know that I’m fucking you,” Raven whispers in her ear because she knows Clarke’s tottering on the edge of release.

She’s fighting her own climax at this  point, but then Clarke looks, cheeks pink, tendrils of sweaty hair sticking to her forehead, lips parted. She holds her gaze as her orgasm hits her and Raven follows her right over the edge.

Half a minute later when Octavia comes running because it sounded like someone just _died_ , she stumbles in on the two still half naked, kissing lazily with their hands still in each other’s pants. “ _Damn it_ , you two.”

Clarke just looks up through a haze of lingering pleasure and drawls, “if you hear something in another five minutes, don’t come running.”

**Author's Note:**

> come join me in my trashcan on [tumblr](http://www.mr-blake.tumblr.com)


End file.
